


A Bad Connection

by Tyranno



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha Stiles Stilinski, Alpha-alpha relationship, Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Nothing explicit I'm afraid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 17:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8293822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyranno/pseuds/Tyranno
Summary: Stiles Stilinski is in love with Derek Hale. He's an alpha, which would be fine except Stiles is an alpha too. With biology working against them, (because, apparently, nothing is ever easy) it's going to be a struggle, but they'll make it work... Somehow.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Rain kept me awake, so I wrote this
> 
> ((All characters shown are 18+))

 The first time the heat came it was Stiles' and they fucked like they were fighting. Or, based on how much time they spent actually fucking and how much time they spent attempting to beat the living daylights out of each other—the first heat they fought like they were fucking. They'd both had sex before but never learned to do anything but follow their instincts and the thick haze of hormones spent the whole evening telling them to kill the interloper and find an omega.

Stiles guessed he should be grateful Derek managed not to _actually_ kill him, but it's hard to be grateful when Derek wakes up the next day perfectly fine while Stiles' body is a patchwork of impressive purples and raised red marks that leave him aching. Derek at least has the decency to shoot him a sheepish look before Stiles leaves for school. At least he's pretty sure it's sheepish. Alpha-alpha bonds don't include strong psychic links, among other things.

Scott was sympathetic too, and apparently predicted this, bringing some ice-packs his mum lent him.

“Don't worry about it,” Scott said, as Stiles pressed the pack to the side of his neck, “Dating alphas is like that. It took a while for me to get used to Allison too.”

Stiles said nothing. It was easy for Scott to say. He was an Omega.

* * *

 At least neither of them had a high libido, which gave them both long enough to brood and avoid each other, Stiles mused. Thank heavens for small mercies.

He remembered a story his Dad told him once of one of his colleagues whose libido was so high she nearly lost her job from all the time she had to spend off-work rutting her wife. The story had struck Stiles as funny but also made him a little uneasy. Stiles had spent his first heat with a specialized omega in a larger city. It wasn't terrible, but it hadn't been all that enjoyable—Stiles had hated the feeling of his control and caution being ripped away by his hormones, forgetting everything—he couldn't imagine a week or a month of near-constant rutting being anything but a real pain to get through.

He'd shared that thought with his father, but instead of brushing it off or laughing, his dad had gotten really serious. He said it wasn't like that when you were bonded—it was a relief because you trusted them more than anyone else, they were part of you and you were part of them. You wanted to give control over. It was only natural.

The first time Stiles slept with Derek without them trying kill each other, neither of them were in heat and that made it marginally better. Derek's knot was tight inside him while his own chafed against the sheets and they were both uncomfortable. There were no organs inside Stiles for Derek to knot against and Derek was causing a sharp pain in Stiles' gut. After they eventually came they collapsed together, bruised and awkward.

In the sweaty, overly-hot embrace of his boyfriend, Stiles pressed his forehead to the other Alpha's chest, breathing heavily. The whisper of their bond, hummed softly in the space between them, allowing traces of emotion through. Derek was just as tired and uncomfortable as he was, just as uncertain, but, underneath it all, he wanted it to work. It was probably only their mutual faith in each other that kept the faint connection alive.

It rankled a little because Derek didn't need the bond to know what Stiles was feeling. Werewolves always knew; they didn't have to stick an ear to someone's chest like they were listening to their heartbeat. Still, it proved their bond was real, even if it was weak and nearly unnoticeable most of the time. Stiles let his head drop back against the pillow, settling a little closer. Small mercies.

* * *

They were trying to reorganize their records in the dusty living room of Derek's house when Stiles finally said whatever he'd been thinking about for the last few hours at least.

“Maybe… for the heats...” Stiles started, before trailing off.

Derek grunted. The heats were a touchy subject for both of them, but it was better than Stiles being distracted and worried, because when Stiles was distracted and worried, _Derek_ was distracted and worried and neither of them got any work done. Derek pushed a pile of old books aside to empty a pile of old papers onto the table.

“We could—” Stiles hesitated, worrying the edge of a bookmark, “Hire an omega?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. The weirdest thing was _Stiles_ didn't think it was a good idea. Derek might not have noticed any real benefits to their bond but it kept his senses nearly constantly focused on the other alpha and Stiles was clearly upset, his emotions a whirlpool of uncertainty, dread and, weirdly, guilt.

“You know,” Stiles prompted, “You could drive out to another city, have your heat there and then—”

“No,” Derek said, and that was that.

* * *

It took all of two minuets for Derek to figure out something was wrong.

He slammed Stiles into the side of the school building. “What did you do?” Derek snarled.

Stiles shifted under his his grip, pain throbbing along the sore line of his spine which was annoying because this bruising each other routine was kind of what he was trying to avoid. He looked up at him, mock-exasperated, “You're going to have to be a bit more specific.”

Derek glared.

Stiles rolled his eyes, giving in. “I took some heat-suppression pills.”

Derek's expression changed, hardening in some way, but it was too subtle to draw any real conclusions. Was he pissed? Insulted? Worried? Forgot to turn off the oven? Stiles struggled but he couldn't get close enough to sense anything from their connection. Stupid, weak, useless bond. Stupid Derek for putting him through this—Why couldn't he have been a little uglier, huh? Why couldn't supposedly smart Stiles have listened to oh, he didn't know, literally anyone, ever—

“Why?” Derek demanded, jaw grinding.

“Okay so,” Stiles straightened up, “It's no secret that werewolves are more animal-like during their heats. You remember what happened the last heat we went through? Thanks, but I'd like to make it through yours with most of my vital organs intact.”

Derek shifted back, eyes darting over Stiles' face, glancing over him from head-to-toe like he's seeing him for the first time. He frowned and opened his mouth to close it again, jaw working. It doesn't take a bond to know what he was feeling now. Stiles could practically see the heartbreak in his eyes.

Stiles caught Derek's wrists, tugging him closer. “Look, nothing happened, okay? Nothing's going to happen. Well, nothing bad at least. Don't worry about it.”

Derek watched him carefully, his expression softening. He nodded.

* * *

Derek's heat went surprisingly well.

It wasn't the heat the media talks about—the wild throes of passion and perfect instincts driving perfect nights—but of all the other times Stiles has had sex it's probably the best. Or… it's close to the top.

Wolfish Derek was confused, mostly, about his bond-mate's lack of omega-related anatomy, and more than a little nippy, with a tendency to latch onto Stiles with his claws. But for all that he's rough he's still Derek.

Stiles watched the sun stream over Derek's perfectly sculpted face, sleeping. He's warm, a reassuring weight against Stiles' side and suddenly Stiles is reminded of why he's even doing this in the first place. Anyone else, he would have given up by now. But it's Derek, he's putting in so much of his time to make this work _because_ it's Derek. Alpha or not, it's still Derek, still the hapless man he'd been following around for years, still the man who saved his life a hundred times over, the man who was trying to make this work just as hard as he was. It was still Derek, the man who was quite possibly the love of his life.

Stiles settled back into the pillows. He followed the cracks in the ceiling with his eyes, smiling faintly. This close, the bond told him Derek was just as content as him.

Apparently after an alpha-alpha bond-pair mated, only one of them fell into a comatose-like sleep, which meant that he had time to make some coffee before Derek woke up. Small mercies.


End file.
